This One Time…

I had this blog, and I’d blog every day except Sund’y.
My house was clean and I baked a lot. My laundry room smelled like roses and my clothes fit seamlessly. I wore aprons and I sang Loretta Lynn songs at the top of my lungs as I did dishes. The children wore rompers and played silently on the floor all day. with blocks.

I read them poetry by nightly candlelight.
My husband would come home from work in perfectly pressed slacks. He’d smoke his pipe and wear a red smoking jacket.
And if you listened very quietly, you could hear the children humming themselves to sleep while Mother and Father held hands and read separate books in front of the crackling fireplace.

Ours was a life desired.
And then. we reproduced.

You guys… I’m just not sleeping. My house looks something like how I imagine Hell to be. NONE of my clothes fit (sweats excluding) and when I cook, I feel accomplished with Hamburger Helper.
Wash your own plate/bowl/mudpie to eat off of, please.

I don’t iron (confession: I never have because I bought an electric dryer).
I don’t wear aprons (not tooooo terribly worried about my sweats getting dirty).
I don’t sleep.
And really, I’m not all that bathed.

Where does this put my blog? Abysmally backgroundish. I miss it so much. It isn’t a matter of making time to do it… I could very well make TIME for it. It’s my brain that’s the problem these days. I can’t think straight or well or logically. I keep putting things in the fridge that don’t go there, and I keep telling my kids to “Clean out the rug and then go close outside.”
They don’t get it either…

Alice Michelle is burning the candle at both of her cute little ends, and I am making the change from Lady of the House to Creature of the Night.
Bags under my mascara smudged eyes to complement the lines on my face.

Folks around town have been telling me it’s summer, and I hiss and shade my eyes and slowly back my hunched figure back indoors.

Last night I actually got roughly 7 hours of sleep which is why I woke up, ate more than my fair share of cracked wheat and then decided to blog. About what?
Well, nothing. But isn’t that what I usually blog about anyway? I’m not doing anything today, nothing worth cataloging for future family reference.
I did have one huge realization the other day when I took the kids outside for their rare weekly dose of sunshine (I jest)… I texted my friend Jewel from where I sat in the playground shade.

Being a stay at home doesn’t come with a paycheck. I get that.
But what it DOES come with is the ability to fart whenever I want to. And that’s almost just as good.

Just sayin.


  1. I feel like we’re basically living the same life. Kids in jammies all day, a baby getting everywhere and into everything, clothes that don’t fit… You are telling my story ;) Makes me wish we lived closer, our kiddos could play (in their jammies ;) together and we could eat the stuff that will probably make our clothes tighter and not even care. :)

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